


Damaged

by lornesgoldenhair



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornesgoldenhair/pseuds/lornesgoldenhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Clara’s birthday and all she has arranged is a normal celebration with her normal boyfriend but it feels empty despite his efforts. When she gets home she finds the Doctor and they decide to finally address the subject of their true relationship and what could lie ahead if they were brave enough to try. Rated M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged

Flowers. Flowers are beautiful, flowers are a good thing, a _normal_ thing to receive on a birthday from a man. Clara smiled to herself as she fanned out the bouquet in its vase on the kitchen table. A nice ordinary human gesture from Danny that made her feel in turn like a nice ordinary human. The smile turned into a hum. And roses too, roses meant he was serious, not that she doubted he was serious but it was nice to get the confirmation in the form of the long stemmed red petalled blooms she continued to fuss with and adjust. And tonight there would be a meal and probably candles and she would finish the day feeling special and adored. She wondered if he had got her a gift, she didn’t mean to be greedy but it was her birthday and anyway she was curious just how well he had got to know her and what hints he might have picked up on….

The sound coming from the living room stopped he in her tracks. Oh God not today. It was Tuesday not Wednesday. Clara stopped her ministrations to the vase and hurried through. Sure enough the TARDIS was parked by her window, doing its very best to block out what little light there was on this particular cold winters day. Clara scowled at it and the door popped open.

‘Clara!’ the Doctor stuck his head out, ‘You’re home early, not teaching, day off? Good! Come on then, chop chop, haven’t got all day, well I mean to say I probably do this being a time machine, but the sooner we get to this particular planet….’ He was already back inside wittering more to himself than to her.

‘No,’ she said and waited as his head reappeared at the door.

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘No what?’

‘No, not today, I can’t, I have a thing.’

‘What thing? What thing can be more important than visiting the Tultranian Ice Planet? It has six moons, and despite what you might think with it being so cold, _two_ suns, but you see both of them are…’

‘No.’

For all the world he looked as though he’d been slapped. The pair stood in silence for a second before Clara gestured to her mantelpiece in exasperation.

‘What?’ he said, equally as exasperated.

‘Look!’

He glanced over but as there was no dawning realisation on his face Clara could only assume that he missed the significance of the row of ‘Happy Birthday’ cards.’ She sighed.

‘Ok Doctor I’ll spell it out. It’s my birthday. A day that belongs to me and me only. I’ve made plans, I’m having dinner with Danny and I will not be turning up to it sunburned, or frostbitten or covered in alien goop. I’m just going to have a nice bath, get ready and wait to be picked up. In a car. _Not_ a TARDIS,’ she added.

‘Birthday?’

‘Yes, you know, anniversary of my birth!’

The Doctor finally stepped out of the TARDIS and approached the mantelpiece, flicking open a card he read out loud. ‘Happy 25th’ Twenty fifth? Are these people deluded, you’re not twenty five they need to add at least a decade to that.’

Clara folded her arms but let the comment slide, she was getting unfortunately used to his total inability to judge age. ‘Technically I’m 27,’ she said, ‘But only because I’ve spent so many months time travelling with you that I’ve actually aged a couple of years. Well two years and three months according to Strax’s scanner the last time I saw him…’

‘Ah!’ he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘So it isn’t really your birthday, at least not biologically, biologically you aren’t precisely any amount of years today, not twenty five, not twenty seven, but more like twenty seven and three months. What the point of celebrating your twenty seventh and three month anniversary day? Great news Clara, you’re off the hook, no birthday celebrations needed so you can come with me.’ He replaced the card and made for the TARDIS. Clara didn’t move.

‘Well come on!’

‘No!’

He glowered at her and she relented just a little.

‘Doctor I’m sorry, come back tomorrow, you can do that easily enough just go into the TARDIS hit a switch and hop twenty four hours.’

‘I know how to time travel thank you,’ he said somewhat bitterly.

‘I just want a nice normal evening,’ she saw his jaw twitch at that. ‘A normal birthday.’

‘You’re becoming increasingly preoccupied with this concept of ‘normal’ Clara, which is unfortunate given that you aren’t.’

Clara’s eyes widened, ‘Excuse me?’ she addressed his vanishing back as he retreated into the console room. ‘Hey!’ she followed him in despite herself.

‘It’s boring Clara, this ‘normality’ you seek, and it’s also impossible, you gave up normality quite some time ago, stop kidding yourself that you can squeeze yourself back into that role.’

Clara bristled, ‘I’m not having this conversation Doctor, I have already explained to you, several times actually, that I have a life. A job, a boyfriend…’

‘Yes, yes we hear about _him_ endlessly,’ he sniped.

‘Oh here we go again,’ Clara muttered. ‘For someone who is so very _old_ you can be incredibly childish. And petty. And _jealous_.’

The Doctors already rather stormy features darkened further but Clara refused to heed the warning and ploughed on.

‘Danny and I have something good going and we are going to have a nice evening. I like spending time with him doing ordinary things that you would find so _‘boring_.’ I _am_ normal and what’s more he is too. He’s relaxed and funny and warm and he loves me. He understands about birthdays and he knows what’s important to me without me having to explain it all, _all_ the time and... and…’ she cast about for something else to fling at him, ‘And he isn’t afraid to be human. He can hold my hand and put his arms around me and not freak out at the idea that he’s hugging someone he cares about.’

Clara stopped aware that she had trespassed from a legitimate topic into one she had been avoiding for a long time. Danny was fair game in a conversation, the Doctor berating him and Clara defending, but edging anywhere near the Doctors true feelings was not a direction either of them felt brave enough to go in. Both of them were all too aware of the effect his last regeneration has had on his ability to express emotion, his ability to make the simplest gesture of affection, and in turn the effect that distance had had on their relationship. Neither of them could fully address or accept it. Both of them, in their own ways were mourning the man he had been.

The Doctor stood by the console, head bowed but the tension in his face was obvious. Clara watched the muscles of his jaws working rhythmically and the tight set of his lips.

‘Well you’d better go to Danny then,’ he finally replied in little more than a whisper. ‘Seeing as he’s so _human_.’

‘Doctor…’ Clara took a step forward but he was already half way up the steps to the console room balcony.

‘Enjoy your evening,’ he said softly.

 

\------- -------

 

 

Clara tried, she really did. The restaurant was warm and romantically lit. The music was just right, the waiter not too intrusive. Outside it was a brisk but beautiful late November evening. Danny had even brought another of those long stemmed roses she had been admiring before to be placed on their table. But she couldn’t focus. They chatted about subjects common to them but the conversation that usually flowed so easily came in dribs and drabs, stilted with pauses while she quickly grappled for the last few words he had said in the echoes of her short term memory. She knew that she sounded distracted but she just could not rein in her thoughts.

She was relieved when the food came so that she could pretend her concentration lay in her plate, but as the courses passed and coffee approached she began to long to get away where she could sit down and properly think through her conversation with the Doctor. And not just the conversation either but this whole problem which had been shadowing them since the day he transformed. This knowing him but not knowing, familiarity and strangeness combined. How much of him was the man she had known before and how much had changed and gone forever. She kept seeing glimpses which gave her hope only to have them quashed again by a word or a gesture that spoke of emptiness, a new coldness to his character which she couldn’t understand.

‘Clara? Clara?’ Danny, gentle sweet Danny taking her hand across the dinner table, the candlelight in his eyes, ‘Earth to Clara?’ She shook her head and smiled at him hoping it looked convincing.

‘Sorry I drifted, its the atmosphere, you know the music and the …. Romance.’

He smiled and she thought she might just have convinced him.

‘Time for your present?’ he said.

‘Oh, you didn’t have to go to any trouble,’ she said automatically and wondered just how she had been so excited about this part before but now more than anything she just wanted to go and not have the added complexity of being grateful for a gift thrown into the evening.

‘I know I know but its really not much, just saw it and thought you might like it. And well I wanted you to know that things really are good, between us I mean, I really am OK with everything…’

And she knew he meant the Doctor and she wondered just how the Doctor appeared in every corner of her life, but before she could take the thought too far Danny had handed her a little box and gestured for her to open it. Again she smiled and then looked down at the gift in her hands.

It was a bracelet, a charm bracelet to be precise and Danny had already bought a few of the charms to attach. She passed them through her fingers for a few moments before it clicked what they were. The little round charms varied in size, some engraved with irregular shapes and one sported a set of rings around its middle.

‘Planets,’ she said quietly.

‘Yeah, there’s a little planet earth there,’ he pointed, ‘Just so you remember where home is.’

‘That’s sweet, thank you,’ she said a little flatly. Because already she was thinking of the planets she had seen before. The ones that were lifesized, alien and beautiful. The ones whose landscapes Danny couldn’t begin to imagine in his wildest dreams. The ones the Doctor showed her.

‘I think it’s time to go home,’ Clara said. Danny looked at her curiously before a sadness passed over his face. So they had both been part of a façade tonight.

‘Yeah, OK, I’ll take you back.’

On the journey he made no attempt to encourage her for another drink or to come back to his flat. He didn’t hold her hand as usual when he walked her up to her door and the goodbye they shared was cool in the night air. Clara felt a sense of long waited for relief as she shut the front door and leaned against it at last alone with her thoughts. She wondered how long she could do this? Could she do this at all? After a few steadying breaths she headed for the dimmed lights of the kitchen, she would have that drink now, but when she reached the door she stopped entranced.

The roses were gone, whether disposed or merely moved she couldn’t tell because her eyes remained fixed on what replaced them. She could only assume they were flowers too but they were like nothing she had ever seen. They stood in a tall elegant vase that looked as though it was made of crystal but the colour of which altered and shone as it caught the light from above. Emerging from it long stems appeared, translucent and so delicate she wondered how they held up the heads as they reached high into the air as though searching for something unseen but vital. The heads of the flowers seemed deep and multi-layered, crinkling in on themselves before bursting forth at the centre with what looked like the stamen of a lily. Clara stepped closer reaching out to touch the heavy looking blooms but quickly retracted her hand from their pale blue crystalline petals.

They were freezing. Or more accurately frozen and she realised that their colour came not from the flowers themselves but from the ice encasing them. Soft vapors curled from the petals into the warmer air of the kitchen as she watched.

‘They are over a thousand years old,’ the Doctor said from behind her, ‘They bloom once a millennium and the moment they do they become frozen in time until the next thaw. Unfortunately that only happens once a millennium too. Apparently they are quite a sight, but I’ve never timed it right. They have such short lifespans.’

Clara tore her eyes away from the flowers whose mists gave the impression of breath and looked at him. He was leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen, his eyes as pale as the petals. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I went to Tultran without you, brought you a souvenir though…. As its your birthday.’ She could not escape the emphasis he placed on the last part.

‘They’re beautiful, thank you,’ she said and watched as he dropped his gaze.

‘I think we need to talk, you and I,’ he said and she felt her heartbeat quicken.

‘What about?’ she asked even though she could feel it coming and she knew.

His eyes came to meet hers again and she watched as something behind them shifted, ‘I owe you some explanations,’ he started, ‘ for…’ he glanced at the flowers and smiled sadly, ‘For leaving you out in the cold.’

 

\-------- --------

 

 

Clara poured some wine and to her surprised the Doctor accepted a glass before joining her on her sofa. The TARDIS hummed softly by the window and did little to break the initial intensity of the silence. Clara shifted uncomfortably, uncomfortable not only with the impending subject matter and the impact it might have on their friendship, but also with the awareness that she was still dressed for date night and that she felt more than a little exposed in her short black dress. Being with the Doctor usually meant sensible shoes and conversations that were not about feelings so this was proving doubly odd territory. The Doctor however appeared as oblivious as usual to her attire.

He was looking into his glass when he spoke at last.

‘You made a few points before, about Danny,’

‘I’m sorry, I speak without thinking a lot.’

‘I’m aware of that, Clara, but I think these were points you had been t _hinking_ about for a long time.’

He raised his eyes to her and held her gaze. ‘Yes,’ she admitted.

‘Danny as you rightly point out, is human; I am not.’

‘That’s not what I was trying to point out,’

‘But nevertheless you did.’

‘It doesn’t matter you’re not human, that isn’t what’s bothering me.’

‘It’s my lack of human behaviour?’

Clara opened her mouth and hesitated, ‘For want of a better way of putting it I suppose so… I…. I miss some of the…’ she struggled wondering how to put it.

‘You miss who I was, the things I did that came easily to me then, your affectionate and dashing young man.’

Clara felt her cheeks colour, he had said it kindly but she still felt that it sounded so superficial.

‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘ I miss him…. You.’

‘So do I,’ he said softly, and the words were so painfully simple that she caught her breath. She had not expected that, a crack in his self assuredness. The Doctor rolled the stem of the wineglass between his long fingers and watched the liquid swirl. ‘I was a different person then and it goes further than the changes of a regeneration. It’s been…. Very difficult, more difficult than I anticipated. In fact I’m not sure I can do it at all.’

Clara’s brow knit in confusion, ‘What can’t you do, which bit is difficult?’

He looked back into her eyes and for a second she caught her own reflection there. He was so close, how had he become so close? If she wanted to she could touch him, press her hand to his chest and feel his heartbeats. But he would start at that and back away she was sure of it. He couldn’t bear to be touched these days, he would react as though he had been burned.

As if reading her thoughts he put down the glass and shifted in his seat so that he was side on to her.   Their knees touched. He felt cold. ‘You’ve stopped trying, Clara,’ he said, ‘That’s what I’ve noticed. When I first regenerated you persisted in throwing your arms around me or grabbing my hands as you’d always done, but the more I rejected it the less you did it.’

‘That tends to be what happens if you get rejected.’

‘I know, I know,’ he spoke quietly and with something like regret. ‘It’s what I wanted,’ he frowned, ‘At least I thought I did, it was too difficult otherwise.’

Clara frowned again, thwarted by his words. She had a sense that he was very close to being entirely honest and that she would finally understand what this meant but she felt she had to drag whatever he needed to say out of him. He was losing his way.

‘Doctor, just tell me what this is about?’

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled shakily. She felt it caress her face and neck.

‘I told you before you aren’t ‘normal,’ he said.

‘Yeah thanks for that, that made my evening,’ she joked. But the look on his face quietened her quickly. She apologised with her eyes.

‘You aren’t,’ he reiterated, ‘You must know that yourself. Not now, not anymore.’

Clara swallowed and looked down, ‘I’m mostly normal,’ she corrected. ‘I was normal until last year, when I jumped into your timeline, I admit its been a bit hairy since then but I’m not just going to give up on the bits of normal I like either.’

‘Ah yes, my timeline, and this is where we come to the problem, Clara.’

‘What problem?’

‘Well actually there are two….. why you can’t be normal, and why I can’t either.’

‘I think I need more wine,’ Clara got up suddenly and retreated to the kitchen. Topping up her glass she set the remainder of the bottle next to her alien flowers.

‘Do you want to have this conversation?’ he asked at her back.

‘I…. yes….no…. I just want things to be…’

‘Normal?’ he actually laughed, ‘There’s that word again.’ He sat at the table and Clara joined him. The light reflected from the flowers frozen blooms into his eyes and they were suddenly bluer than she had ever seen them. There was something else there she’d never seen either.

‘Clara, on your part you’ve seen things very few other humans have ever seen, things that Danny will never see, things he doesn’t want to. His lack of interest in the wonders of the universe irritates you Clara even if you do dismiss that irritation. But your experience of these things has also changed you, your horizons stretch much further, your expectations are higher, and your fears… your fears are more profound.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying he isn’t enough, as hard as you try to make him be, he’ll never be enough now.’

Clara bristled.

‘Don’t,’ he said serving only to make her bristle further, ‘Hear me out. Please.’

She bit her lip, but only she reminded herself because this conversation had been a long time coming and she didn’t know when another opportunity would arise.

‘And then there are the nightmares,’ the Doctor went on and Clara jerked.

‘Which nightmares?’ she asked, defensive.

‘The ones about your echoes, the ones that are really memories from half lives previously lived. I know you get them.’

‘You don’t know what I dream about!’

He looked at her steadily, ‘Don’t I? Doesn’t it occur to you how strongly we are linked? That since you scattered yourself through my timeline things have altered, I barely have to focus to share your dreams now, Clara.’

Something about his tone made her nervous, something told her it was the truth. She thought of all the times she had slept on the TARDIS, how close she had been to him, how easily he might have seen.

‘Why are you telling me this now? she asked, ‘Why are you emphasising how tied together we are when you’ve been backing away from me since you regenerated?’

‘Did you ask yourself why?’

‘Because you’ve changed, because you’re a different body, a different personality, because you didn’t think it was ‘appropriate’ I don’t know. But you made the decision, something in you triggered that change from him to… to…’ she gestured to his face, his body, ‘to _this_.’ And he flinched at her tone but she didn’t stop. ‘You chose this older colder version of you for a reason, whatever that was and then you pushed me away. You told me you’d made a mistake, that you might have considered yourself my ‘boyfriend’ but you shouldn’t have and then you set about making it clear you weren’t.’ Clara’s eyes stung but through a haze of unshed tears she watched his face change.

‘Oh Clara,’ he said so quietly she had to focus to hear him, ‘I wish I could give you what you want. But I can’t ever be him again. It lies far deeper than how I look or even the idiosyncrasies of this particular persona. I spent nine hundred years on that planet, Clara, time is a powerful mistress and she leaves no man undamaged.’

‘Trenzalore? What has Trenzalore to do with us now?’

He looked at her as though he envied her naivety. ‘Trenzalore changed everything, Clara. It separated us.’

She set her jaw, ‘I offered to stay with you.’

‘I know.’

‘I tried to come back,’

‘I know,’ he agreed.

‘You sent me away. _Twice_.’

‘Yes,’ he paused, ‘I was a better man then. I wouldn’t let you go now. If I hadn’t let you go…. I wouldn’t be this version of me at all.’

Clara blinked. ‘I’m not following.’

He took a sip of wine and a breath. ‘You jumped into my time line and we became bonded.’

‘Yes,’

‘But initially I didn’t really understand quite _how_ bonded. Before I could Trenzalore happened. I had to stay there, there was no other option. But there was choice for you, stay or leave. The selfish part of me wanted you with me but your affectionate young man couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow you to live the rest of your days on that cold planet fighting someone else’s war.’

‘But I would have.’

‘He knew that….’ He hesitated, ‘That was one of the many reasons why he loved you,’ the Doctor let the words hang in the air and Clara felt her stomach quiver with the wings of long supressed butterflies. She missed him and now she knew for sure that he had loved her. He had loved her. The implications of what could have been hit her like ice water. Her chest ached.

But the Doctor was speaking again and she rushed to follow what he had to say.

‘So he sent you away, to live your life, thinking that knowing he had done at least that for you would ease his own time on the planet no matter how much he might miss you.’

‘And?’

‘And he was wrong,’ The Doctor looked away from her and it seemed for a moment that he struggled to calm his breathing as though he fought to choke back any tell tale sign of emotion. ‘Nothing eased it, Clara, nothing ever eased it. A head full of memories, images of your echoes which were given endless time to be remembered. Nine hundred years for me to recall each time some version of you or another had died, and then they started to appear on Trenzalore too.’

Clara’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What?’

‘In each generation there is an echo of you, more or less, I don’t see them all but I run into a good number of them. You were born to save me, again and again and so when I was threatened in Trenzalore your echoes appeared there. I would watch as Clara Oswald after Clara Oswald was born into the town of Christmas. Watch and know there could only be one reason why she was there. And wait until the inevitable.’

Clara paled. ‘How many?’

‘Thirteen. Thirteen echoes of you during those years. You practically had your own graveyard.’ His laugh was bitter. ’So I watched again and again, and I lost you over and over. Except they weren’t really you, they didn’t come close, but they were enough to hurt me. And I suddenly wasn’t sure what was worse, being without you watching these shadows of you die, or watching the real you die if you had stayed. At least then I could have…’ he stopped suddenly.

‘You could have what? What could you have done if I’d stayed?’

‘I could have had those years, Clara, its selfish of me I know, but....’ Clara watched in horror as the Doctor tried to get himself under control again and failed, his usually reserved manner cracking and falling away. ‘Nine hundred years is a long time, even for me,’ he smiled sadly, ‘ and after a while you stop trying to form any kind of relationship with another living being, knowing they will be gone in a season while you plod on. Relentless life. Alone. It’s one of the reasons why I travel, but I was stuck Clara, I was stuck in one place and one timeline and the loneliness was unbearable. I was going mad from loneliness. And loneliness makes you selfish too. And isolation makes some things so alien. One of them is touch….’ He looked at her apologetically. ‘You remember what I was like, you tell me you miss the affection I handed out to anyone who wanted it, well suddenly that affectionate streak was backfiring on me. I was watching friends die and I was alone with these needs that couldn’t be fulfilled. It altered me, damaged the core of me more than I realised, and that’s why I think….’

‘That’s why you are who you are now,’ Clara said. ‘It changed you.’

The Doctor nodded, ‘Yes, Clara, it changed me, as time always changes things, some things evolve, some things decay, but everything changes. Even me and I tried not to, you must believe that.’

Clara looked at him sadly. ‘I forget just how long it was for you, I mean I know it in theory, but for me it was still just a day, ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t made this easy for you.’

‘I’m sorry too. As I said Clara, I made many mistakes, its about time I did something about it, and I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you over again by being what I am now. I’m sorry I’m not him. But I didn’t chose it, I never would have chosen it, had I really known.’

‘Known what?’

‘How unbearable life is without you in it…’ he said with painful honesty, ‘and that’s why I say I’m not sure I can do this at all.’

‘Do what, Doctor?’

‘Let you go to Danny, let you go again. Please, Clara, don’t make me let you go, there’ll be nothing left of me.’

And Clara watched as a single tear spilled over his cheek. A moment later she felt it on her skin and she realised it had fallen on their joined hands. When she kissed it away, the dam broke for both of them.

 

\---------- ---------

Clara pulled him to his feet by the hand she still held and reached immediately for his face. The path of the teardrop remained damp on his skin, older skin, paler skin than before, but when she grew closer she inhaled the scent of it and it was just the same; exotic but familiar. She wiped away the last trace of moisture with her thumb. He was watching her, the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes, tracking her every move as though he was frightened she would run from him at any moment. Clara took a small step forward until she bumped against him so that their bodies touched and she could feel his breath in her hair coming in slow shallow waves, the breath of someone trying hard not to let go. She let herself nuzzle the side of his neck and could hardly contain her soft smile at the tiny noise he emitted in response. Finally he let his arms circle her, tentatively at first before the press of her body encouraged him to pull her closer and his embrace became tight and needy. He dropped his head, nuzzling her hair, his breath against her ear, whispering. ‘Clara.’

She ran her hands up his back in response and felt him stiffen, his breath held. She leaned back a fraction to look at him.

‘Relax,’ she said, kneading his muscles. She was rewarded with a hesitant smile before he looked away again, hiding his face in her hair. His strange shyness was the opposite of how she had imagined he might react to such intimacy but it was endearing. She spent a few moments more soothing his back, allowing him to be accustomed to her proximity, until she was sure she could feel the thud of his hearts through her dress, rapid and strong, and there was the most subtle of changes in the way that he held her. When he said her name again his voice was deeper, gruffer, rumbling in his chest. Clara withdrew and slid her hands down his jacket sleeves before capturing his hands. She indicated the door behind them and watched his eyes widen slightly.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘We should get comfortable.’ She saw him lick his lips tentatively and suddenly she found it hard to look anywhere but his mouth. A trace of moisture gleamed there and she fought the urge to kiss him there and then, reminding herself he was still skittish. She pulled on his hands hoping he would follow, and he did. Clara by passed the living room. She had the feeling that when things did speed up they would do so at such a rate that there would be no further opportunity to switch environments. Instead she came to her bedroom, just as she had left it before her date with Danny, a few outfits of choice cast carelessly over a chair by the balcony, a dim bedside light the only illumination. The Doctors eyes wandered to it as Clara laid her hands on his jacket and pushed it down his arms. He allowed her to remove it without protest but she could feel his tension rack up as she unhook the buttons of his waistcoat. When she touched the layer beneath he stilled her hand.

She looked up questioning but understanding at the same time and tilted her head for him, encouraging him to make the step to meet her. Cautiously he leaned down, lips slightly parted and then dropped his kiss onto her waiting mouth. The feeling that went through her at that moment almost knocked her from her feet. Clara felt it course directly from her lips to her heart and then deeper into her body. His need was overwhelming and in the seconds that comprised that kiss Clara felt his mind reach for her with a thousand images. Many were of her, or of those with whom she shared a previous existence. Others were of cold nights on Trenzalore and the portraits of her he painted. Others still were less images than feelings, of aching loneliness and regret, of his hearts breaking just to see her face again. She saw her dashing young man age in isolation and then transform. She saw the man in front of her alone in the TARDIS gazing into a mirror with grief in his eyes. She would never love him now. Now that the veil of his youth was gone and his hearts remained so damaged.

Clara broke free of the kiss and gasped.

‘Yes I will,’ she said,

The Doctor stared at her. ‘What?’

‘I never stopped, not really, I just didn’t see, I’m sorry, I wobbled, I let you down…’

It was too much, too painful, too much emotion. ‘Enough talking,’ he said. ‘Enough talking, enough thinking….’ And he leaned down again to capture her lips.

Clara felt him hook his arms tightly around her again and hold her closely, desperate to be as near as possible but terrified she might break. She felt his tongue cross smoothly, wetly over her lower lip before she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss and tangled one hand in his thick hair. With the other hand she returned to his white shirt and this time there was no resistance as one by one the buttons came undone and she felt the skin beneath, taut across his slim body. She heard herself moan in her throat and he released her a little to breath while he kissed down her neck. His hands slid to the back of her dress, unhooking and unzipping so that with a whisper it fell away revealing her underwear and nothing more. ‘Oh, Clara,’ he said hotly against her shoulder, pulling her to him again so that skin met skin and she hissed with pleasure. She could feel the hard length of him now against her belly, and pushed forward with her hips to create friction for him. ‘Ah!’ his lips faltered across her collarbone and she reached down to stroke him through the material of his trousers rubbing just long enough and hard enough to hear his breath speed up before reaching for the buckle of his belt and pulling down his zipper.

‘Slow down,’ he managed, panting against her ear.

‘Can’t,’ her hand returned to him and he bucked against her. Oh god he felt good, his usually cool skin warmer now than she had ever felt it, his erection solid and thick in her hand. Clara guided him towards the bed and made quick work of any remaining clothes he had. She unhooked her own bra impatient for his hands on her breasts and encouraged him to touch her there.

‘Clara, wait,’

‘Waited long enough haven’t you?’ she asked, pushing him back and straddling him wearing only her underpants, ‘You seriously want to wait longer?’

‘Clara, please,’ she looked down at him, breathless, there was a slight flush across his cheeks and his pupils were deep and endless. She smiled at his expression, he seemed awkward but entranced, begging her both to let him and to stop him. ‘I don’t want to let you down,’ he managed.

She reached forward and touched his hair gently, ‘It’s going to be fine,’ she said, ‘Like you said no more talking.’ And she kissed him again allowing him to roll her so that he lay across her, his hands moving across her body, tracing the shape of her ribcage and her waist, touching her hips. He pushed past the thin material of her panties and Clara kissed him deeper in response, silently begging for his touch. When he hooked them from her body and returned his fingers to her she was slick and ready for him, moaning as he explored her most intimate areas, tantalised by the sounds he made in his own throat just at the feel of her.

Clara squirmed under him and opened her legs wider, encouraging him with her movements to where she needed him to be. He was on top of her, his breath coming in short pants already, when she felt his mind again reaching for her. He wanted her to understand just how long he waited for this. How often he had thought of her, how often he had stoked his need on lonely nights by remembering her face, her laugh, the easy way she smiled. His memories were spinning away with him now, his thoughts blurring into an overwhelming sea of desire. Nine hundred years, the concept was impossible for her on an ordinary level but here, exposed to his memories and to the feelings that came with them Clara found herself with tears trickling down her face even as he entered her. Nine hundred years he had waited, he had waited for her. He needed this, he needed her more than she could ever understand, she was born to save him, she was born to love him too.

Deep in her, his movements quickening and Clara knew by instinct he had no control over this now. That would come later, there were be times she was sure when his self control would lead to endless hours of pleasure for them both but now, in this moment, it had to be this way. Hesitantly with an unpracticed mind she reached out into his memories and his consciousness with reassurance.

_This is what I want, you are what I want, don’t stop._

In response a blaze of colour in her mind and the colour soared until she was no longer sure where his mind ended and hers began or where their bodies truly joined. There was only heat and need and pleasure and the connection they had tried to deny. When the climax came to both of them they were one being.

 

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew he was crouched by the side of her bed.

‘Clara,’ he spoke softly as though afraid to wake her.

‘What is it, are you OK?’

He smiled. An easy warm smile she had never seen on this face. ‘Everything’s fine, but I need you to come and see something.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Time’s irrelevant, come,’ he straightened and held out one hand. Still somewhat blurry Clara followed him through her flat to the kitchen where she saw it before he had to say a word.

The flowers on the table were changing. The delicate ice which coated them slowly shifting so that the pale blue petals beneath were transforming into something much more radiant. They unfurled slowly, the last breaths of vapour drifting from them, as the warmth of the flat penetrated and released them from their frost, a gentle crackle coming from the leaves as they changed, the petals that had lain cold and lifeless suddenly comprised of golden light. Clara stood mesmerised, dimly aware of the Doctor sliding his arms around her waist.

‘Once every millennium,’ he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the spectacle. ‘Of course I should have thought it through, it was simple really. I didn’t have to wait all that time to see them, all I ever needed to do was bring them here.’ He kissed her neck gently. ‘All I ever needed to do,’ he echoed.


End file.
